


Run So Near

by AVirtoMusae



Series: Infinite and Infinity [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Space Pirates, Assassination, Corrupt Governments, Corruption, Cuddling & Snuggling, Happy Ending, Kidnapping, Klingons, M/M, POV Third Person, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Revolution, Romulans, Slow? Burn, Some angst, Space Husbands, Space Pirates, T'hy'la, Tarsus IV, United Federation of Planets, War, Xenophobia, sort of dark, spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-05-21 08:46:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6045330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVirtoMusae/pseuds/AVirtoMusae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jim kidnapped the son of the Romulan praetor, he wasn’t expecting to live much longer, much less find an ally who hated Praetor Nero as much as he did or fall in love.</p><p>{Can be read as a stand-alone}</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

If James Tiberius Kirk had to name one thing he disliked, the first thing he would name would be the Romulans. Number two? The Federation. When the new emperor of the Romulans had seized power in 2245, the first thing to go were border planets. James Kirk had been a young kid then. An idealist. He hadn’t known the horrors of life then.

The next year saw to that.

By 2246, the conflicts between the Romulan Star Empire and the Federation had reached Tarsus IV. The Romulans descended on the planet first and appointed the man most likely to follow them while they set up a base of operations on the edge of the Earth colony. In retaliation, the Federation had created a blockade around the planet.

Resources diminishing and food disappearing just as the Romulans “accidentally” caused a fungus to develop in the colony, the Romulans issued the governor an ultimatum: choose the thousand most valued members, the most loyal, the most intelligent of the colony or let everyone be killed. Governor Kodos, seeing a no-win scenario, had taken the first option. 

James T. Kirk had been selected to survive by virtue of his brain, not his loyalty. Loyalty to Kodos was something he had never had. At age thirteen he saw the boy he had a crush on, his aunts, his three cousins, and all his friends killed in the space of an hour, burned beyond recognition by the guards’ phasers. At age thirteen, as he sat in a large oak-like tree and watched the blood and gore reflect the colors of the sunset, James Kirk realized there was no authority he could obey. The Federation and the Romulan Star Empire had caused this and men had perpetrated it, and Jim realized that if no one else would stop it, then he had to.

Face set in a grim line, James had made up his mind. His gaze settled on the Romulan base, his fists clenched, and he climbed over the fence into the shipyard. Hands shaking, he hardwired the ship, a small warbird just as he had his stepfather’s car years earlier. It had been months since everyone had died, and the remaining humans were the Romulan’s slaves for all needs. James counted them lucky that the Romulans looked down on them with so much disgust that not many humans were raped. 

James had worked in the shipyard because the Romulans had noticed his knack for engineering. Slowly, he had pieced together what each of the various controls were, what the language was. Now, he applied those skills, making the warbird rise into the sky. he bit his lip and looked up at the skies. He mapped a path through the blockade and knew his plan would work.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

James’s plans worked. By sixteen, his notoriety was well-known throughout the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. He traded in his warbird for a blockade runner and found his crew. It was small, but James never played with anyone’s loyalties. He found a crew and kept it. There was Leonard “Bones” McCoy, his doctor. There was Montgomery “Scotty” Scott, his engineer. There was Nyota Uhura, his language specialist. James was captain and tactician and pilot.

They were good. 

Of course, nothing gold could stay.

James was only eighteen when everything went to hell. His crew was captured by the Klingons. James would later boast that he was the only thing that Romulans, the Federation, and the Klingons could all agree on. While James Kirk became famous for relieving colonies of the strains war brought and blockade running and collecting information and foiling plots, he made enemies everywhere.

So his crew’s capture had the Romulans and Federation both negotiating for the prisoners. In return for enormous profit, the Klingons gave James’s crew to the Romulans. James they gave to the Federation. James was told he was going to a mining planet. As his friends were dragged away, James tapped in Morse Code a message he knew Uhura would rely to the others: _I will come back for you._

His crew was destined for a prison camp at best. At worst, they were to be executed in one of the emperor’s creatively cruel tortures. 

Just as he knew he had to get off Tarsus and save worlds, he knew he had to save his friends. James vowed he would, and his word was his solemn oath (except for when he had to break it). This would not be something he would break.

A phaser at his back, his hands in feet in chains, James let himself be walked to the prisoner transport ship. James had no interest in it. It was in the other ships that he was interested. The Romulan ship with his friends, his crew, had long-since left. But there was another ship, a warbird, out in the open. 

A Romulan warbird fit with his plan perfectly.

A slow smirk formed on James’s face. This was something he’d be able to pull off with minimal difficulty. He waited until there were the fewest number of guards around him, and then he struck. It was with the ease of practice that he managed to grab a phaser and make it over to the Romulan Warbird with his hands and feet still bound. 

The warbird was still empty, so it was easy for him to sneak onto. Even for James Tiberius Kirk, it was impossible to fly a warbird with hands bound. So he freed his hands with a trick he had learned on Tarsus and hoped that the Klingons and Federation members wouldn’t destroy the ship before he could fly it. 

James was never glad for Tarsus IV except for the skills he had learned there, for its making him want to fight. It was because of Tarsus that he was able to fly the warbird, and once again, face set in a grim line, James had made up his mind, and he knew his plan would work.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

James Tiberius Kirk was infamous in the galaxy. He drank in the notoriety. He had his crew. He lost everything. When James Tiberius Kirk decided to kidnap the Romulan praetor’s son, James could not say he was expecting to live much longer.

The facts were as follows:

{1} Prod Nero was very interested in his son, Vaebn

{2} James needed to free his friends

{3} Prod Nero would negotiate for Vaebn’s return

{4} James would use himself as a bargaining chip if all else failed

{5} He was getting his friends back

James had never been suicidal, but he was desperate, and he was not going to let his crew be killed. So here he was in Ki Baratan, the Romulan capital, looking up at the Hall of State. This was not his destination, but it held the Praetor himself. It stood to reason that he would take a moment to observe it. 

He didn’t linger. He was more likely to die if he stayed — or it was more likely someone would notice his humanity, at any rate. So he continued on, walking down the stone-paved path until he reached the Praetor’s mansion. It was an imposing building, and in addition to the guards, there was an intense security system. 

James was a hacker in addition to everything else. It was a skill he’d needed to develop in his years as a pirate. So he hacked into Praetor Nero’s security and snuck into the house. The phaser he’d stolen was still in his hand as he snuck down the hallway into Vaebn’s room. 

And then there was a disrupter pressed into the small of his back. James whirled around and pointed his own phaser at the person who stood behind him.

James Tiberius Kirk was, in fact, always up-to-date on politics even if he had a hatred for anyone in a position of power. So yeah, he knew exactly who was pointing a disrupter at him. It was the Praetor’s son, Vaebn. 

“Vaebn,” James said, true-to-style ignoring the customs that dictated he use a formal form of address. James never exactly care how rude he was. He never really had reason to. He was a pirate, not a diplomat — probably a fortunate thing.

“ _Zhollhakh._ ” _Pirate._ The tone it was said in implied that James’s profession was a mark against the man. James was not the type to care about that; any caring he might have about that was purely pride. James’s profession was a bit disgusting but not necessarily the epitome of evil. It had been a long while since James had learned that anything negative was a compliment in disguise, so he smiled. Perhaps he saw the glimmer of deeply hidden admiration in Vaebn’s eyes.

“ _Ie, arhem vihroihm_ James Tiberius Kirk,” James replied, the smile twisting to the side and becoming one of his signature smirks. He mocked a bow, a show of respect that would be entirely foreign to the Romulan in front of him. _Yes, my name is James Tiberius Kirk_

“ _Khia_?” The Romulan scowled, his voice more than a little incredulous. _You?_ But that glimmer of admiration — that had grown, and James, for the first time in as long as he could remember, was well and truly shocked. Authority hated him, and the hatred was mutual, so why would a member of the Romulan government be happy about his presence?

James crossed his arms. Did he not look enough like a pirate or at least not like he was the _most infamous_ pirate in multiple quadrants? “ _Arhem hrhaear rrhaar!_ ” There was a glare in his eyes, too, but the smirk did not shrink at all. _I said that!_

A hand was placed on James’s shoulder. There was a plea in those dark brown eyes.“ _Dekon’e rrhae_.” _Help me._ James’s eyes widened. This was not his plan. If he were nothing else, he would be a strategist. This was the second time he could remember his plan going so wrong. The first time, it had resulted in his friends’ capture.

“ _Fvah?_ ” _What?_ Were James to think of it, he would say it was “illogical” for him to be asked for help. But James could only stare at the Romulan in front of him in surprise.

Vaebn huffed in apparent irritation, though James could not think why. The Romulan was not the one “I will switch to your Federation Standard — that is your native tongue, no?”

“Yes,” James agreed quickly,“but why would you want help?” Romulan was his second language, and he was good at it as he had to be, but even he would admit a slight preference for his native tongue.

The Romulan bit his lips. It was a strange sight, a lack of confidence on someone James would have expected to be confident always. “I wish to help because O’ren — Nero — is not my father. He killed my parents.” Vaebn breathed out slowly, a hard look coming across his features. 

James’s eyebrows flew up in his surprise, for surprise was suddenly his primary emotion.“What?”

Then Vaebn continued speaking, his low voice quiet enough that James’s human ears had to strain to hear it,“My name is Spock cha’Sarek.” That, James knew, was not the name of a Romulan but a Vulcan. James looked at Vae — Spock. It was true he lacked the half-nature and half-nurture brow ridges most Romulans had on their faces. It was not impossible for Romulans to lack those, so that, James knew, could hardly be cited as evidence. It took a moment, but James found his evidence in Spock’s eyes. They were human, which actually did more to support Spock’s claim than anything else.

“Nero has my crew,” James pointed out, his jaw clenched, “and no offense intended, but they’re my priority.” As any person in charge ought, he did blame himself for their capture. He would not break his word by failing to free them either.

“ _Daie_ , but I am able to aid you. I know O — Nero,” Spock protested, raising his eyebrow. The expression was more forbidding on him than it ever could be on the pirate. James lowered the arm with his phaser, and Spock mirrored the gesture.

“Fine, but I swear if you betray me I’ll —” He motioned to his phaser as a means of finishing his sentence. He tilted his head to the side, and somehow, his grin grew.

“ _Ri svik-tor nash-veh du._ ” These words were Vulcan and strange to James’s ears, but somehow, he knew their meaning anyway. _I do not betray you._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit about Spock and a bit about plot

Everyone had thought that Spock cha’Sarek had never had a difficult life. When he was a child, his parents were rich. The S’chn T’Gai family’s house was larger than two or three average-sized houses of ShiKahr put together. By all accounts, his was of one of the most privileged houses on the planet due to the fact they were descended from the planet’s idol. 

Of course, nothing gold could stay.

Spock was seventeen when it happened, and by the standards of his mother’s people, he was a year away from his adulthood. By his father’s, there would be nearly a decade until he could be considered a man. He would never see his parents as a man. The year was 2244, a single year before Nero’s rise to power in the Romulan Empire.

It was then that Nero’s climb to power began, and it began with a bang.

It happened like this:

A dark night, not anything out of the ordinary, the orange hues of the Vulcan sky fading into a deep brown. The stars were vivid, scintillating specs of light. There was no moon, and light was a scarcity, provided only by lights made by the people themselves. In the S’chn T’Gai house, there was not a light casting its glow.

It was easy, too easy for a man like Nero to slip inside. It was easy for him to slit the throats of the lord and lady, the glorious Sarek and Amanda. They died with a gurgle, and there was naught to warn Spock about what would come next.

There was a cloth over his mouth and then nothing.

He would awaken in a dark room, arms and legs bound to a table, and a new name by which he would be called.

 _Vaebn._

Sneaky One.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

Whoever created the fairy stories was wrong. It wasn’t a fairy story, and the prince locked in the castle didn’t immediately fall in love with the dashing rescuer. 

James Tiberius Kirk and Spock cha’Sarek were not a good team, and together, they did not look like badass pirates. James would blame that on the fact Spock acted like a “prissy lordling with a whole fucking tree up his ass.” Spock would blame this on the fact one of them possessed common sense. James would retort that he was a pirate and therefore had no need of common sense. The arguments decreased in quality from there. 

Things had disintegrated after the initial escape. It was easy for Spock to trust James’s judgement in their escape. Every rumor began with James escaping. One story had him escape a Federation Prison. Another had his parents have been Romulans’ slaves and he the lone escapee. It was in perhaps only one variation that gave the true story, that James had fled Tarsus. It was not a story Spock had heard.

It was with practiced ease that they made it into a Romulan warbird. Spock recognized it and admired it, but he only asked how many times James had done that.

James looked at him, grinned, and asked, “You don’t want to know.” He mimed raising a hat to Spock.

Spock just raised an eyebrow in response.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

Whoever said that opposites attract wasn’t wrong, but they forgot to include all the difficulties involved. The constant arguing — that, for one, was excluded from all the fairy stories. So were the trying not to punch one another out, ranting, and the near-death situations it kept causing. 

“ — and the prison camp would be told to kill the prisoners if a warbird were to suddenly appear. To do so would be illogical,” Spock explained. One would be lying were they to say his tone was not condescending.

James just tilted his head to the side. “They have specific rooms for that, certain tools. You think those are invulnerable? Wrong. You know how many of them I’ve hacked?” There was no regret in his voice, but it was there in his eyes, there because he had not known in time to save a colony, his own home.

Spock did not pick up on it and raised an eyebrow. “So you wish to put your crew in jeopardy based on faith that you will be able to do what you say?” He was unimpressed.

“Hey, like you have a better plan!” James defended, throwing his hands up in the air. He brushed his hair to the side in attempt to look more the part of “dashing pirate.”

Spock nearly smirked. “If we arrive with the cloaking mechanism active, we could send them a message to make them think this an authentic prisoner transport.” Spock’s conviction pissed James off mostly because the plan was actually half-decent.

Making a split-second decision, James typed a command into the ship and grabbed his phaser. This was his original plan when Spock was still just Vaebn. But he had not been planning on this since then. But his new plan had its issues for certain, and this one had fewer. It was for a matter of pride that he did this now. 

“What are you doing?” Spock turned around to find a phaser pointed at him. He paused. His expression remained the exact same, but it was the eyes that gave him away. Spock continued to meet his eyes, but in them, there was every indication that he would like to be anywhere else. James bit his own lip. He realized that he did not like that expression on the not-Romulan pseudo-prince.

James did not know whence the words came, but there they were, sitting on his tongue. “I’m sorry.”

Spock turned away from James then and did not look him in the eyes again. He clasped his hands together, for he feared they would shake if he did not stop it. 

Someone once said, “It’s hard to tell who has your back, from who has it long enough just to stab you in it.” It was in that moment that Spock realized the truth of the saying. It was then that he understood that this was not a fairy story, and the prince in the tower should not automatically trust the handsome rescuer. 

Days ago, Spock had learned how to trust. Now he learned betrayal.

It is not a pleasant feeling. 

Even less pleasant is the appearance of Nero’s face on the viewscreen. There was little Spock knew how to hate so much as that scarred, tattooed, and utterly unhinged wretch of a person. 

The face looked exceptionally happy to see Spock.

Spock refused to look up at the villain of his not-a-fairy-story. That face was what he was running from, and James wanted to send him back. He would not go back. There was a phaser pointed at his head. He would prefer the phaser.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

James was not sure what had caused him to decide on his original course of action except perhaps that the not-a-Romulan is just so damn infuriating that his own rational mind escaped him. He was a pirate, and yes, he was against the establishment because they didn’t give a shit about anyone, but goddamnit, he had a conscience, and Spock just looked so hurt. Betrayed. 

In that moment, James realized that there was no way he was actually giving Spock over to Nero. He would just make both of them think that, get his crew back, and screw Nero to Abaddon. 

“Nero,” James said, and every nanometer of his smile was laced with forced cordiality, “as I really don’t like your face because seriously, that’s one uglyass mug, but anyway. You don’t stop me from getting my crew, you get your son here back. If not, I’ve got a phaser aimed at him. Hint: it ain't set to stun.” Actually, it was, but fortunately, he'd had a bit of time to modify it so that detail wasn't so obvious. 

And, as miracles were sometimes inclined to exist, Nero actually acquiesced to James’s request, but it was with one condition: “Vaebn” be returned before they will have left Romulan space. James decides instantly that he will need a plan because right now, he has just about two options: (1) he could tell Spock and they could figure something out to actually get rid of Nero or (2) he could just cut and run. 

James did not know which of the two options were more likely, but he didn’t have to decide right then and there. He would put off the decision until he needed to make it. For now, he could deal with a less-than-thrilled crewmate. He was not a shepherd, and his crew was not a flock of sheep. They were wolves, all of them, and he was the big, bad wolf. He was used to an angry crew.

James cut off the transmission. 

Spock still refused to look at him. Instead, Spock’s eyes focused on the metallic wall of the warbird as far from James as possible.

It must have been a conscience — all it ever took for evil to reign was people to hide their consciences. James did not hide his, but guilt? It was a feeling he hated. 

What a person hated to feel so rarely mattered to the feelings themselves, and so was the case with James Kirk. The guilt he hated to feel told him this: _“Goddamnit, kid, you need to apologize. Explain yourself. Give him to understand why you did it.”_

James’s conscience sounded a lot like Bones. He was going to ruminate on that later and check that he was not being possessed. 

“I was angry,” James declared as if those were the only three words anyone ever needed to say. Spock still face away from him, but he just tensed. James huffed. “Look, one thing: I am impulsive. I’m not going to give you back to Nero. I don’t do well with authority.”

Spock turned to James then, and in those dark eyes, there was a deep pain. James thought he knew how much of that felt. “If you wish to take me back, I suggest you _Ie'yyak-hnah_.” _Fire phaser._

James nodded slowly. “Right. See, here’s another thing: I’m not taking you back to Romulus. Unless you want to, that is, but I’m —”

“I will not return to Romulus.” Spock’s voice contained a vehemence that James rarely heard from anyone other than himself. Spock’s left brow arched, and somehow, that settled matters more than a verbal agreement from James would have done. There was something imperious about the not-Romulan that could not be denied. He was a prince, runaway though he was, and that was not changed.

“I said I wasn’t going to make you,” James repeated, using a different set of words this time. There was still blatant fear in those eyes, and James decided it was his business to know why. He ignored boundaries, and he ignored that niggling voice that reminded him that he had not invaded his own crew’s past any more than strictly necessary for business. “What did he do to you that made you so afraid?”

“He slaughtered my parents.” There was hatred and unabated fury, but James knew somehow that that statement was not all his emotions. Even Spock’s deep eyes told him as much. His face was left unguarded, but his words were a shield, a plea to stop asking questions.

James considered obeying for a second. “My father was George Kirk.”

He watched as Spock’s head turned to him. Spock’s eyes were calculating now, and there was something about his face that was intent on studying him. James wondered if Spock would trust him more now. “Continue,” Spock sounded almost put out, upset. James did not understand.

“I don’t hate him for that. I didn’t know the man. I hate him for everything that came after. So what came after that for you?” 

Spock tilted his head to the side felinely. “As you might say, ‘everything.’ However, you desire to rescue your crew, and I find it distasteful to leave any in such an environment. So, you have bargained for your own crew, but it could be stretched to include more if we —”

And so it was as they discussed a way to rescue everyone in the camp, that for the first time since James Kirk, infamous pirate, stole the prince from Nero that the pair made a proper team. Alone, they could do little, but together — that was a possibility as of yet unexplored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James Kirk, you are an idiot. 
> 
> Anyway, feedback is appreciated.
>
>> A Virto Musae  
> By the Virtue of the Muse


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginnings of a plan, and a darker look into Spock's past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the warnings now included in the tags. There is discussion of past emotional, psychological, and sexual abuse. If this is a trigger for you, either a) don't read, or b) don't read between the bold section dividers. I would not describe it as graphic, and it is highly stylized, but please be warned and be mindful when reading. The rating has been changed to M because of this.

There was no feasible way to save everyone, but no-win scenarios? In those neither Spock nor Kirk were willing to believe. James’s crew was able to walk right onto the ship. It was a miracle because sometimes, miracles were inclined to exist. And this was one. Bones, Scotty, and Uhura — all three were able to simply walk right onto his warbird.

James grinned, and he turned his head just far enough to wink at Spock.

Nothing gold could stay, and luck quickly began to run thin. It happened like this:

“You brought a fucking pointy-eared hobgoblin bastard to what — screw us all over?! Fuck, man! Are you trying to get us all killed?!” James had been within his rights to be utterly concerned about the fact his conscience took Bones’s voice. James loved the man as a better brother, but Bones was a bit xenophobic. It was part of how he’d ended up on James’s crew. His ex-wife had been a Romulan spy, but when she’d heard he was joining Starfleet medical, she’d sent people to kill him and sent their daughter back to Romulus. The Federation did nothing to help him. Bones didn’t like Romulans or anyone that looked like ‘em.

This could prove problematic. But as they said: problems are opportunities. James determined to make it so. 

“Bones, Spock. Spock, Bones. Get used to each other. We’re on the same team.” James flashed them both a grin before turning away to pilot their ship out of there. Both Bones and Spock stared after him. Bones gaped. Spock blinked. Staring at the viewscreen at the front of the ship, James grinned.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

Spock would always have been the first to say that prejudice was illogical and to be avoided. He had never felt such an intense dislike for anyone as quickly as he did for James’s doctor friend. There was something that irked him about the man, and Spock was sure he was not so petty that his grudge was simply because Bones disliked him. They said tit for tat, but Spock was not like that. Despite the evidence to the contrary. 

Spock was useless in this well-oiled machine. Everyone was a cog and Spock just a spare part. Spock disliked this on sheer principle. Sizing inaudibly to himself, Spock walked toward the pilot's seat to stand at Kirk's side. 

“Spock,” James exclaimed, turning away from his console and grinning up the man in question. “What can I do for you?”

“Captain,” Spock enunciated, his voice quiet yet firm, “What is it that you intend?”

James grinned. “I have a few friends, but what we're going to do, that's something brand new.” His smile seemed to have a voice of its own, telling Spock that whatever its master was planning would be big.

People said that one should take everything in moderation. In that moment, Spock thought that included moderation. He was not sure whether to be excited for or terrified of James’s plan, but whatever it was, he anticipated it.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

There were a lot of things that James was willing to say about his pirate compatriots. He'd call them friends behind their backs and to their faces but never in his own mind. They were not like him. They were not him. But they were a necessary evil (or perhaps necessary morally ambiguous beings).

There was Captain Sulu, with his team of Pavel Andreievich and Carol Markus. There was Captain Olson, with his team Hendorff and Giotto (this was his least favorite group). There was the ex-Starfleet Commander Hana Pike, with her team of Boyce and Colt.

James had arranged a meeting with all of them on a fairly deserted asteroid in a fairly empty solar system along the Romulan-Federation border. It was a dangerous location, one subject to numerous border patrols and skirmishes. But for pirate ships equipped to go anywhere in ubiquity, it was as safe as place as any.

“Welcome,” James declared with a flare for drama that would outmatched even Kodos. “You know why we are here.” He mock-bowed at this, and his crew stepped up behind him. It was Spock that stepped up beside him. Everyone stared at him.

“But Keptin, we are not knowing zat,” came a voice from behind Captain Sulu. The captain turned to glare at the younger man, who quickly shrank backward and blushed scarlet.

“Yeah, and that doesn't answer why that lil Romulan bugger you've got there is here!” shouted Olson. James reckoned he was quickly going to regret inviting said crew. Being fair, he decided, was only worthwhile when it didn't compromise the objective of the mission.

James glared at Olson. “Didn't your mother tell you to tell you not to say anything if you couldn't think of anything nice to say?” 

It was Hendorff, not Olson who replied next, “Well, my mother told me to tell you to fuck off, you and your Romulan cunt there.” 

Spock raised an eyebrow in a way that could only be described with the use of curse words. James grinned, “Got some soap to give to your mamma, Cupcake?” He grinned and patted the giant of a man on the cheek. Hendorff ’s goatee twitched. “If your pea-brain knows what soap is, I mean. Soap’s this thing people use to —” 

James may have seen the first punch coming, but the situation deteriorated from there with a speed that may have exceeded any currently known warps. The situation finally stabilized when Spock nerve-pinched all of Olson's crew.

 _C’est la vie_ , they said. 

_Kaiidth_ , said others.

James was inclined to agree with both.

All of Olson's crew was excluded from the planning, and it was planned that they would be excluded also from the execution. 

It was Hana who said the words that ended their discussion, but it was Kirk who had to mend the damage done. “What if you used your little prince there and gave him back —”

And Spock was gone before she could explain that he would be the man on the inside, their source of information and one of the main actors. Spock was gone to the other side of James’s ship, and James ran after him.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

There were few words capable of describing how Spock felt when James grabbed his hand. Spock inhaled sharply and could not prevent the flaring of his nostrils. An overwhelming sense of _mine_ flared in him before being brutally repressed.

Spock knew that the gesture meant nothing, very little to James at most. But to Spock it was the single most awe-inspiring sensation in existence. Since he had seen that Kirk would not truly betray him, not in his weakest moments, Spock had realized that he trusted the man in front of him. Spock realized he had been enamored with thus man since he had realized the beauty in front of him was the dashingly infamous James T. Kirk.

It was the first time Spock could remember enjoying a kiss he was given, and the kiss was not even intentional. He could close his eyes to what he did not wish to see, but he could not close his heart. For the first time Spock did not want to close his heart. 

Taking a breath, he managed to hiss, “Do not make me go back.”

**⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚**

Spock was a young teenager when he was taken by Nero. He was gawky, only just barely no longer a child. His limbs were too long and his frame too thin. He was an adolescent stuck in those awkward years, and he was a child stolen from his home and his only safety removed. He had lost everything, and now he was stuck in this green and black hell.

It was a ship, and to him, it was the color of death.

Red was the color of life and hope.

Green was its opposite, the color of death and color of the scabs all across his back and arms and legs. Spock was unsure that any part of him had been spared. He hid in the farthest corner of his cell, crumbled in on himself. He was bare and hiding himself from the world in the shadows. It was all he had. 

The first time it happened was on that ship as he hid in the corner. 

The first time it happened was only sounds, gasps and moans and hisses and the sickening slap of skin again skin. Spock never dare to look.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero’s second, Ayel.

“Of course you do, but you're not worthy,” they told him.

Spock did not react, did not believe the words.

The second time it happened, Spock was chained to a bed. Naked and forced to watch, Spock wished it would end. Spock tried to close his eyes, but something would not let him.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero’s second, Ayel.

“Of course you do, but you're not worthy,” they told him.

Spock grimaced, but he did not believe the words.

The third time it happened was after he was sent some Romulan priestess to defile. He had refused, disgusted by the very thought. He was bare and unable not to watch.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero’s second, Ayel.

“Of course you do, but you're not worthy,” they told him.

Spock was horrified to find his own cock interested in the proceedings.

And so it continued, getting worse but staying exactly the same.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero’s second, Ayel.

“Of course you do, but you're not worthy,” they told him.

Spock did not believe them. His parents loved him. He had a clan who accepted him. 

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero’s second, Ayel.

“Of course you do, but you're not worthy,” they told him.

Spock did not believe them. He'd had his parents. They'd cared.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero’s second, Ayel.

“Of course you do, but you're not worthy,” they told him.

Spock did not believe them.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero’s second, Ayel.

“Of course you do, but you're not worthy,” they told him.

He was not nothing.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero’s second, Ayel.

“Of course you do, but you're not worthy,” they told him.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero’s second, Ayel.

“Of course you do, but you're not worthy,” they told him.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero’s second, Ayel.

“Of course you do, but you're not worthy,” they told him.

_Was he nothing?_

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero.

“Do you want to join in?” asked Nero’s second, Ayel.

“Of course you do, but you're not worthy,” they told him.

“Can I join?” he begged them. He had long since stopped needing to be encourage to stay. His cock was always inrerested. It disgusted him, but he had ceased caring about that.

“But you're not worthy,” they told him just as they always did.

Spock believed them. He was worthless like they said he was. Spock did not want to be worthless, but there it was, his own reality confronting him: uselessness. Him, he was worthless. He meant nothing to anyone and was less than dirt. He was only worth being tormented. His peers on Vulcan had recognized that long before he ever had. They had been right. He should have let them insult him so they did, never should have fought back. Every word they had said was a word he deserved. How had he never noticed?

Yet, perhaps it was a selfish thing of him to desire, the only thing he found himself capable of wanting, but there it was: he yearned to mean something, anything, to anyone.

And there they were: stunning blue eyes, a shit-eating grin, and messy blonde hair.

**⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚**

Spock said nothing of this and just kept holding onto James’s hand, his vise, his lifeline.

He could not be nothing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you need a summary of what happened between the section dividers, I will provide one in as non-graphic terms as I can. Reviews of any kind are appreciated.
>
>> A Virto Musae  
> By the Virtue of the Muse


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which James talks and Spock comes to an important realization. (Nahp, hif-bi tu throks.)

James Kirk was many things, but he was never a boy scout. James would say these many things included a lot of things like “hated by literally every authority figure in the alpha and beta quadrants,” “great at orgasms,” and not “prince charming.” James knows that life isn't a fairy tale and that he isn't Prince Spock's Prince Charming. The thing is that he has taken to acting like it. James decided to put this down to misplaced guilt for almost returning Spock to Nero.

The second important thing to consider is this: Hana Pike’s plan was the best one they had. Firstly, Nero really did want his little prince Vaebn back. Secondly, Spock was smart. Thirdly, they really needed to get rid of Nero (this was especially true for James, who undoubtedly had an even larger price on his head — maybe enough to buy a star system with by now?). Fourthly, they had access to Romulan cloaking technology. They would be able to make it so one person would be hidden so that one person could protect Spock. Fifthly, it was a chance for everyone to have revenge.

There had never been a time when James would have refused a plan of the calibre of Hana Pike’s.

James Kirk refused it automatically because Spock was uncomfortable with it.

This realization made James Kirk slightly uncomfortable. 

But there it was, the crews of four infamous pirate ships all working together and coming up with naught. It was infuriating. The only useful thing they had accomplished was attacking patrols from both the Federation and the Romulans and planet-hopping to avoid detection.

It was depressing.

James sighed and threaded a hand through his messy hair. They needed a plan because there was no way they could dodge these patrols like this for much longer, but in addition, Hendorff ’s crew had already left. It was only a matter of time before Sulu and Pike went the same way as Cupcake.

Hana Pike’s plan got vetoed very quickly. It was a smart plan — that was something James could tell in an instant and respect, but after his own blunder with telling Nero he had Spock, James felt protective over Spock. So it was with trepidation that James approached Spock and said, “Trust me.”

Spock understood that this was not a fairy story, and the prince in the tower should not automatically trust the handsome rescuer. “How?” The question was an honest one. Days ago, James had taught Spock trust and turned around and taught him betrayal. No, Spock did not want to trust.

James took a deep breath. This was the eye of the hurricane. This was the only way for him to protect what he'd made. So, he spoke.

“You know I was a child once.”

A nod, slow yet sharp yet skeptical. 

“I was a child until thirteen. At most.”

A blink. There were many things people say turn a boy into a man. Bloodshed. Killing. A woman. Age. Spock defined his own childhood ending when Nero took him. Spock understood James defined his own similarly without the story. Spock did not expect more words from James until the words were said.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

There were 13,000 colonists on Tarsus IV. James was one of the last 9 alive before he fled.

It happened like this: 

First came the Romulans. They stayed away from the colonists except when they needed supplies. Romulans getting supplies was something the colonists feared, for when the Romulans wanted supplies, they did not go to the store. They robbed and murdered for whatever it took. They took half the city and made a base. 11,000 colonists left.

Second came the Federation. They never came to the planet. James never saw a Federation minion with a shiny attitude and phaser attack the Romulans. He saw ships covering the city and farms in shadow. He saw ships so frequent they blocked out the sun. 9,000 colonists left.

Third came famine. It gnawed at every colonist and Romulan. What little food they had was theoretically contaminated. James blamed the ships in the sky and the Romulans with their foreign equipment so close to the land. People rotted in the streets, too malnourished to move. 8,000 colonists left.

Fourth came the massacre. James saw the Romulans talking to the governor and heard what they said. The next day came blood. James sat in a large oak-like tree and watched the blood and gore reflect the colors of the sunset. 1,000 colonists left.

Fifth came the work. James and the remaining colonists were the Romulans’ slaves. James was good at machines. He was assigned to the shipyards as most were worked to death in the fields. Every day as he walked home, he would see protesters’ bodies rotting in the streets and the bodies of laborers in the fields. 500 colonists left.

Sixth came the uprising. James was in the shipyard the Romulans had built and was repairing a ship. What he heard was the bang, the sound of a gunshot that could be heard all around the world. It was with a whimper that the uprising ended. James could not hear it. 9 colonists left.

James took the ship and left. He watched the colony with its Christmas-colored streets disappear into a speck. He stood by his vow.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

Spock stared at James Kirk as if he were seeing a different man. Perhaps he was. James Kirk was many things, but the one everyone saw was pirate. Before he was anything else, perhaps that was it. But James Kirk was now leaning against Spock’s side and trying desperately not to cry.

Spock saw something for the first time: a man as desperate as he. It was in that moment that Spock realized what it had cost James to tell Hana Pike her plan was not happening. Spock realized that James wanted to use the plan but had not for Spock's sake.

He took a deep breath before the plunge. “Yes.”

James’s head snapped up. “What?”

“Yes,” Spock repeated quietly, his voice almost cracking, “I will go through with this plan. It might be the only way to defeat Nero, and I will not force you to pass that up.”

James, blue eyes wide, stared at Spock. A hopeful smile curled the corners of his lips. “Thank you.” He took Spock’s hand in his own and squeezed. Spock's eyes shut as his cheeks flushed green. “Thank you.”

The hand not in Spock's snaked its way around Spock's shoulder, and James was leaning into his side. Spock had not understood peace and content before, never felt them. If he had had expectations, this moment would have blown them all away.

Spock leaned his head onto James’s shoulder.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

It was an hour before they returned to the others. In an hour, a lot could happen. Such was the way with time, and such was it now. When Spock and James returned to the others, who were all sitting between their ships and sitting close to a large bonfire, there was something different about them. The entire time they walked over, their hands brushed, their shoulders brushed. They stood so close together that their shadows looked like they belonged to a weird Spock-James monster.

The difference was trust. James had trusted Spock with something he had never told anyone before, and in turn, Spock had decided to trust James once again. Spock did not contemplate the fact that if everything between him and James once again went ill, it might be enough to finally break him.

“I will do it,” Spock declared as soon as the others were in hearing range. There were stares and people gaping. His refusal, James's refusal, had been more than adamant. For it to be changed now was startling.

“Wait, you're gonna help us now?!” Bones demanded because apparently changes of heart weren't acceptable. James knew that Bones was a steady person, who was constant and stuck to his principles. In his book, there was very little room for changing one’s mind. 

Spock leaned into James’s shoulder, and his hand entwined with James’s. It was a gesture meant only for comfort, a means to remind himself that he was doing what was right. Romulans and Vulcans had been descended from the same species, and as such, much of their physiology was in common. However, one thing was different: Romulans lacked Vulcan touch-telepathy. As such, the touching of hands, while sensual for both, was not as significant to Romulans as to Vulcans. Spock had been taught intimacy by Romulans. 

Spock did not realize that he had just kissed James or that those feelings of comfort came from James and not simply the gesture.

“So, how's this going to work then?” Pike asked, clapping her hands together and grinning. Spock thought she looked a little too excited.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

There were many things Spock never claimed to be, but he never claimed to be brave. There was no other word that could have described Spock except perhaps courageous as he waited for Nero to answer the call. They'd had to make it look as authentic as possible.

Therefore, James was sitting in the captain's chair and his crew sat at their stations in the background. They had made sure they were a ways away from the other pirates. The other pirates had yelled obscenities at them with the general intent of telling them that they had to get away or else. In Romulan culture, there were only two ways for captives to be seated during negotiations. The first was at the master’s feet. This was used almost exclusively for sex slaves. The second was sitting on the master's lap. This showed submission. The master could hold down the captive’s limbs. It also showed that the captive was “willing” to sit in the master's lap — one of the most thorough signs of submission.

This was the position Spock was in. James would have been lying had he said there was no part of him that enjoyed it. Spock, too, would have been lying.

Nero finally came on the viewscreen. James straightened up, seeming instantly much more an infamous pirate captain. For he was infamous, and the man before him hated him more than most. Spock, too, straightened. In a “show of dominance” as would generally be expected, James pulled an arm across Spock’s chest, locking the half-Vulcan against him. Spock was scarcely able to suppress a shiver. 

“ _Jolan’tru, Fvillhu O’ren._ ” James half-snarled this, and the insult in his voice was clear from the informal greeting.

“ _Shaoi ben, ih’zhollhakh riov Kirk._ ” Perhaps Nero was more polite than James, but his tone was equally insulting. 

“ _H’rau arvha aihr’faelirh, aihr’Vaebn,_ ” James stated quickly. His face was impassive as he played dumb, pretended he did not know any of Spock’s secrets. _I have your son, who is Vaebn. Meet me on Tarsus IV._ “ _Paetu arhem hrrau_ Tarsus IV.”

“ _Fvah-udt?!_ ” Nero demanded, clearly rather unused to anyone making demands of him. But then, who had the power to do so except for James Kirk or the Federation or the Klingon Empire?

“ _H’rau arvha aihr’faelirh, aihr’Vaebn,_ ” James Kirk repeated. He could see in Nero’s eyes the exact second the man acquiesced to his demands. James Kirk smiled, and Spock knew true fear.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

Tarsus IV was a rather innocuous planet, and they’d landed on the side away from where the colony had been. It looked just like any other planet here. James, Spock remembered, had called it a “Garden of fucking Eden.” Spock was inclined to trust James’s judgement on the matter since James would be the expert on the matter.

It was Bones whose hand was curled tightly around Spock’s jacket-clad arm as he pushed Spock toward the Romulan guard, yet it was Uhura who answered the Romulans’ demands.

“ _Vikra riov khaei?!_ ” _Where is your captain?!_ Spock felt panic for a moment, worry that they suspected the pirates’ scheme.

“ _Hwiiy hhakh!_ ” Uhura snapped, something dangerous in her face as she insulted the Romulans before her. “ _Aelhe-dihv aeu riov mnei gohhai tembhiyy th’annai hwi ?!_ ” _Do you think that our captain works prisoner transport?!_ She crossed her arms and raised a manicured eyebrow. She’d won.

The Romulans just shook their head, and James snuck onto the Romulan ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know about any troubles with my Romulan. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and feedback is adored.
>
>> A Virto Musae  
> By the Virtue of the Muse


	5. Chapter 5

When Spock was a young child, he'd had his mother. While he'd never truly accepted her for her humanity as a child, Amanda had always accepted her son exactly as he was. That was one of the hints Spock would carry with him the rest of the days. It was a solace in a solitary, spiteful world. Spock did not only carry it, no. To it he clung like a vise.

When Spock was seven, his mother hugged him for the last time. He hadn't been a fan of hugs due to their illogic and unVulcanness. But there was a certain comfort in them that he was unable to deny. It had been over half of his life ago now, but sometimes he could still remember the feeling of her warmth surrounding his. 

It was undeniably home.

Spock had never felt further from that than he did now, on the transport heading back to Romulus. Spock hated Romulus and dreaded his arrival. Spock shut his eyes against his own thoughts and against the almost inexorable future.

This was no fairy tale. If it were, Spock would have been completely free of Nero and the Empire and with a fantastic hero to marry.

Instead, he was here with an infamous pirate and about to take down the emperor while dealing with all the emotions associated with his past.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

If Spock had to name one thing he disliked, the first thing he would name would be the Romulans. Number two? Hana Pike’s plan. Spock stared at what had been his bedroom door once. He called it the door to the prison now that he had had a taste of the world. There was little he hated so much as being trapped here on the Romulan homeworld. 

Spock shivered, but he did not pull his blankets any closer to him. In truth, he could scarcely stand to be on them. Lying down and taking comfort in them was an idea that he could not bear. Spock thinned his lips as he thought for a second before getting up. As soon as he thought it, Spock was standing on his own two feet. 

He looked down at the bed as if it were made of vipers waiting to strike him. The bed creaked. The man who got up was still invisible, but Spock found himself impossibly aware of James’s presence. 

There was an inhalation of breath. 

“If Nero dies, who inherits the Empire?” The question is said in such an innocent tone that Spock might almost have believed it was just asked for the hell of it. But Spock knew better. He knew how relevant it was to their plan.

Spock turned to look at the seemingly thin air where James was standing. “Ayel.”

There was the sound of James running a hand through his hair. James could be stealthy when he needed to be, and only then. This was not then. “Both die. Then what?”

Spock had to think for a second. The deaths of Nero and Ayel were something for which he had longed for so long. He had never had to contemplate it becoming reality. “Then I am their heir.”

There was a quiet moment, and Spock felt the hairs on the back of his neck tingle. James was staring at him. The silence stretched on for a moment, and against his rational mind, Spock felt fear, fear that James suddenly saw him as an enemy. When James finally spoke, his voice was well-nigh to quiet to hear.“Do you want to be?”

It was for another minute Spock stared blankly. He, too, had to take a moment to think. Were he in charge, there would be so much he could do. He could change it from the inside out. But he could barely stand to be here, and he hated the idea of being here so much. 

“No.”

Spock could imagine James nodding. “If you disappear?” 

“There is no set heir,” Spock explained, staring almost longingly at the shut door to his rooms, “but there will be a fight for the Star Throne. The fight will last four months, and then the new leader will work on avenging the previous leaders while setting up their own reign.”

The question was quick this time. “Who will win?”

“Without question, M’ret,” Spock answered. He anticipated the following question and answered that one quickly. “He will lead the Empire away from war.”

“So we warn him, and then we kill Nero and Ayel and flee.” Spock could hear the grin in his captain's voice.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

M’ret was nearly a fairy tale prince. He was not the son of a praetor, but he was actually nice and he had the support of the military. It was no surprise that Spock thought he would succeed Nero if something were to happen. James was disinclined to trust quickly, and Spock was possibly even more so. 

However, sometimes a tactical risk was necessary to win a fight.

And so it was here.

And so they told M’ret their plan.

M’ret’s first reply was this: “Are you two insane?! I am against this war, but do you think subjecting the government to a bloodbath is a good idea?!”

Spock blink. It was James who answered M’ret. “Millions people die daily in the war. Fewer people die if you help put a stop to it. Make peace with the Federation and end the war.”

The argument did not, of course, end there because like most arguments, it stretched far longer than necessary. However, James would mark that as the tipping point.

Their plan was turning much more solid.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

Praetor Nero came to visit Spock not long after they had gotten back. Nero, of course, had dragged Ayel along with him. Spock had been disinclined to let them into his quarters, but he had understood he had had no choice and done it anyway. They stood imperiously near the door, and Spock stood seven feet away from them and was as stiff as a board.

Spock had wished to avoid any confrontation with Nero. But when it was imposed on him, he had choice but to rise to the occasion. 

Spock restrained a grimace. “Your Grace.”

“Vaebn.” Nero growled. He looked murderous upon looking at Spock. Spock was very used to that by now, and he was prepared to defend himself mentally. He never did that for a long time. When he had first gotten here, he had, but his defenses weakened. Now it was James’s presence that made him do it. “God of you to return.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Spock returned instantly, seemingly the image of courtesy. It did not take an expert to know how fake it all was.

Nero struck Spock on the cheek. “You liked being away, didn't you?! You wanted to stay away!” 

Spock said nothing because to deny it would have been a lie he could not say. He could not wear the mask and make it convincing. It was a character he was unable, unwilling, to become.

Nero hissed, turned on his heel, and stormed out of Spock's room. Ayel followed. He did not give so much as a single facial expression to defend Spock.

Spock stared at the door, which remained open. He could not see Nero or Ayel, both of who had stormed down the hall. Yet he could not stop staring. The door shut on its own, and it was on an instinctual level that Spock understood it was James who'd shut it.

“Let's get you a dermal regenerator and some food,” James decided. Spock could just nod along.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

Praetor Nero was a terrifying man prone to killing those idiots that misstepped. Her emperor had heard of some plot, or perhaps he simply didn't trust the pirate that brought him back. James Tiberius Kirk, they said he was. More of a legend than a man. Jaeih knew it wasn't her place to question the Praetor, however. She knew she had to do as she was bid.

Jaeih had always been a Romulan spy. When she had been a child, she had already been training for it. Both of her parents had been spies; they had met on a case. It was the family business and she loved it. She had just arrived in Ki Baratan at the praetor's request the previous day. 

Her appearance was still relatively human even though it had been a couple months since her last assignment and appearance-altering surgery. She wore a hood for good measure to keep her human-look from attracting attention. 

She swallowed and adjusted her clothing. It was alright for her to be nervous before her audience with the Praetor. She straightened her spine until she was at her full height of six feet. “Your Grace,” she intoned after performing the ritual greeting, “I have arrived as you have requested.”

“Your hood,” Nero hissed, “lower it.”

Without comment, Jaeih pulled her hood lower. Naturally, her hair was only a single shade lighter than black. Currently though, her hair was dyed blond with the tips and aqua blue. She was a modern-style fairy tale princess without her prince. 

“Better.” Nero looked her up and down. She knew better than to ask what Ayel thought of his looking at others, but the comment was on the very tip of her pierced tongue. “Your assignment.”

“Yes?” Jaeih asked, bowing her head slightly. She had to fight with her facial muscles to keep the smile from her visage. She could not suppress it entirely. She had good control over her face, but her excitement was too palpable for her not-quite-Vulcan control.

“Vaebn, my son, has been returned. You watch him.” Nero smirked.

With her Praetor smirking, Jaeih saw no reason not to show her smile. “Understood. Thank you, Your Grace.” She bowed as the situation required.

“Go.”

Jaeih obeyed.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

Spock didn't try to leave his room when he didn't have an actual errand. James had never disagreed more with a strategy. If they never left the room, it would be much more noticeable when they need to leave. However, Spock refused to see sense, James thought. James was already sick of this room and wanted to explore. 

“Spock, come on,” James hissed. He was pacing the room out of sheer boredom. There was a reason fairy tales didn't include this, this pacing here and there in the moments between adventures. 

Spock leapt to his feet and physically ended James’s pacing by grabbing James's shoulders and holding him still. “I insist you must cease before you drive me mad!”

James didn't make an effort to escape Spock's grasp. “Sorry.”

Spock's shoulders sank and the man himself looked away. “I am afraid I have been unnecessarily harsh.” He took a step back and collapsed against the wall. “Have I bruised you?”

“Yes, but do whatever you need to do. You're hurting, and I want to help.” James had some sort of steel in his face then, a dare to Spock to refuse his help. Spock did not refuse. James walked over and sat down on the floor next to Spock. “Whatever you need, I'm here.”

Spock nodded shallowly, and James realized that Spock automatically assumed no one wanted to help him. It reminded James of how he himself had once been before he'd met his crew. Spock knew the world of woe, distanced from every system of decency. James placed his arm around Spock's shoulder.

Spock looked at it questioningly for a moment, but after a minute, he accepted the arm and sank into the warmth. James was not a huggy person, but he couldn't help but wrap his other arm around Spock's shoulder. Spock's breaths grew deeper and longer, and there was a rattle in his throat quite akin to a purr.

It was to that sound that James fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed it. All feedback loved.
>
>> A Virto Musae   
> By the Virtue of the Muse


	6. Chapter 6

It was the trembling that woke James up. The slight form in his arms was quivering, and then a whimper escaped Spock's lips. James couldn't remember when the purring had stopped, but it had ended ages ago. The warmth was still here. Spock was still there, and it took James little effort to tell that Spock was still asleep and under the influence of a nightmare. 

“Spock?” 

Spock did not wake up. James attempted to shake him awake again. Spock made another whimpering noise, and at a loss of what else he could do for Spock, James wrapped the other man in his arms and snuggled into him. Spock whimpered again, but this was quieter than the earlier ones. Spock had stopped shaking, and a moment later, he had stopped whimpering too.

Spock was quieter and sleeping. 

James decided to count that as a win, and slowly he slipped back into sleep with the unfamiliar weight of a scared man in his arms.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

Spock woke up and found himself more entangled in James's limbs than when he had fallen asleep. The night before, James had wrapped Spock in his arms. Spock had never expected it to last. _You're not worthy,_ Nero and Ayel had said so many times, and so many times had Spock believed it. Spock did not feel worthy of the pirate's embrace, but James had stayed the whole night. For the first time, Spock felt truly cherished.

He did not know James well. 

It was a truly odd thought that a stranger who offered him comfort was his lifeline. Spock did not feel love, but he did feel hope. And hope was a potent emotion. Spock could feel it as if it were a breathing, living thing. He was beginning to rely on this man for his strength despite having known him for days only. It scared him.

James stirred in his sleep. His dirty-blond hair was ruffled and spread slightly across the pillow. The fierceness in the set of his jaw when he was awake was gone. Instead, his jaw was slack. James Kirk was eighteen, and Spock knew that, but it was the first time he really saw it. This was not a fairy tale, but if it were, James looked the part of Prince Charming. 

Spock banished these thoughts from his mind. They were unhelpful. Blue eyes flickered open, and Spock could feel James’s heart rate speeding up as he woke. James groaned. Spock looked at him questioningly. 

“Wha’ time’s it?” James mumbled. It took Spock a moment to understand the butchered Standard. 

“Nine fifty-three and twelve seconds in the morning.”

James nodded his understanding. “Right.” It was then James seemed to notice that his arms were still wrapped around Spock. His eyes widened as hare at the realization, but he looked at Spock as if asking Spock's opinion on the matter. Spock would have preferred they stay wrapped around him like a safety blanket, but he gave no indication of such. James let his arms drop to his sides. 

“We need to learn Nero’s schedule. And Ayel’s. The trouble was that Spock still refused to egress from his own room. His room was the only place in the praetor's house where Spock had a chance of hiding. In here, at least, Spock did not have to face the world except on his own terms. That made everything easier to bear.

The trouble was that James did not view staying in the room to be an option because he preferred what he called a “hands on” strategem. Spock could do little to hide his own franticness. The payor of his face, the way his hands quaked, how his pupils were so dilated — all of it gave him away. 

Before going out for the day, James grabbed Spock's hands in his own. Spock blushed at the way the touch made his whole body feel. James did not seem to notice. “Spock. I'm smart. I didn't get so far being a dumb hick. I'll come back.” Spock ignored the “for you” that James’s look implied.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

James followed Nero around for four days and Ayel around for three. James learned many things about both of them, and in a free moment he gained access to their schedules for the entire month (the officially planned parts, anyway). Here are the things he learned from following them in no particular order:

> {1} Nero actually enjoys the human drink coffee and gets it from his replicator on a regular basis when he thinks there is no one looking. 
> 
> {2} Ayel knows about Nero’s coffee breaks but doesn't say anything because anyone who upsets Nero tends to wind up dead.
> 
> {3} Nero and Ayel slip off to have sex at least twice a day. James made an effort not to watch this. It was hard not to, and James had realized watching people he intended to kill was seriously gross. Also, the fact that it was his mortal enemies was even worse.
> 
> {4} They also had sex a lot while torturing prisoners — that was rather horrifying. James was seriously scarred for life.
> 
> {5} They both had routines that they followed and were predictable about it. If their routines were modified in any way, they liked to see the interruption earlier and take care of what was interrupted afterward.

There was more, too, but in James's mind, these were the most important. The most relevant. James T. Kirk already had three prospective plans for how to get rid of Nero and Ayel in his mind. Now he had to go tell Spock.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

Spock's mood improved greatly over the course of the week. They said that adjustment in life was a difficult thing to do but it made people successful, and so true it was here also. 

The first day James followed Nero was the worst. Spock was alone that day. Utterly alone. It hit him the worst that day. It was the first day that he was on his own, and the loss twisted in his gut like a knife. Spock paced across his main room, tried to sit for a while, had a panic attack, and then slept restlessly.

Day two was only marginally better. Instead of sitting borigly, he forced himself to read. This also deleted his panic attack. He still worked on pacing a hole into the floor, as it were, and his agitation had not diminished. Spock might have been more anxious, but he was trying to avoid that fact by not thinking about it.

The third day was milder. Spock spent its entirety reading. His hands may have been shaking, but he was not as bad as the previous days.

The fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh passed the same as the third day. The only variation was the book he was reading.

On the seventh night, James returned to Spock's room. Spock did not understand how much he had missed James until that moment. He had missed the comfort, the assurance of having a present ally, but mostly, he missed having a friend with him, having a friend at all. It was as if there were a deep tension that was suddenly expelled, and for the first time in what seemed like ages, Spock felt light. James switched off his invisibility almost the second he was inside.

His hands were trembling, and it took him a moment to realize that he was frantically hugging James. Spock was clinging to the man. Spock used some of his Vulcan strength to pull the other man to him. James hugged back. Spock did not see how James’s eyes widened or how shocked he was at the hug. Instead, James just whispered how he would give Spock anything he needed.

There was then silence for a time as Spock still clutched James to him. Then:

“You are alive.”

“Yes.”

There was silence again.

“You are alive.”

“Yes.”

“Show me.”

So then James’s lips were on Spock's. It was not love but desperation and reassurance fueling their actions. They had not had enough time for friendship to become love, but even in such a short time, they had a developed a trust and respect, feelings of friendship stronger than most. Spock did not kiss back at first, but then he was. His mouth pushed against James’s, tongue begging for entry. 

James agreed, and Spock's tongue explored the cavity of Spock's mouth. Spock moaned as he felt the insides of that mouth. Spock's eyes closed, and he held onto James’s shoulders desperately. His cock twitched and grew in his pants, and James’s erection pressed into his own leg. He moaned at its pressure.

James pushed Spock's robes up until Spock's lower stomach was exposed. Spock did not want to break contact with James's mouth, but then one of James’s hands was reaching up and tweaking one of Spock's nipples. Then Spock's head fell back and an embarrassingly loud moan filled his rooms. James took the opportunity to push Spock's robes the rest of the way over his head.

James pulled Spock close to him, and the fabric of James’s clothes rubbed against Spock’s bare skin. Spock whimpered, and almost hesitantly he pulled at the fabric of James’s shirt. James seemed to get the hint and pulled it off. Spock did not take the time to stare at James. Emboldened by his previous action, Spock started to pull off James’s pants. The other man's erection suddenly bobbed free. 

Spock did not take the opportunity to admire this either. Instead, he just clung naked to James. Their erections rubbed together without lube, and Spock moaned at the friction. Spock had never felt anything like it. Spock kept hugging James, but James moved one hand down it was clutching one of Spock's ass cheeks and the other he brought down to enclose around Spock's erection. Spock moaned and threw his head back, and his hands tightened on James’s shoulders as he became desperate to hold onto something. 

James slid down Spock's body until his face was level with Spock's groin. James looked up at Spock and grinned with his mouth only a couple of centimeters away from the tip of Spock's penis. Spock whimpered as James’s warm breath ran across it. “Please,” Spock whispered quietly, and then James’s mouth was on his penis and Spock was lost to the sensations.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

James held Spock in Spock's bed that night as he had a week earlier. The difference was that this time they were both naked and had pressed up against each other while awake and fallen asleep that way. It was an intimate position, more intimate than James had ever truly been with anyone. James already knew it was unlikely that they would mention the sex. The sex was comfort, but it was not something that James expected to happen again.

James was a bit surprised by the fact that the thought saddened him because there was no reason for it to do so. Spock and he were friends only, and James could easily get sex in a city like this one. But there it was. It was not even as if Spock had been particularly good in bed. Spock had been so innocent about it, so inexperienced. He had clutched at James’s hair so hard that it had been painful. But there had been no restraint in the half-Vulcan as he had writhed and moaned and babbled as James had brought him to his climax. And then he had cum without giving any warning, and Spock had held on so tightly to James that James had not even thought to ask if Spock would help him with his climax. James had been willing to snuggle with someone and not do anything about his own erection for the first time in his life.

So James realized that he had never had such a close friendship or trust of anyone, but he refused to contemplate anything more. Still, he found himself rather disturbed by how selfless his own actions had been. He had never been that way with people before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants to help write the rest of that sex scene out, make the offer in a comment. I was not entirely sure how to write it. All feedback is appreciated.
>
>> A Virto Musae  
> By the Virtue of the Muse


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit goes DOWN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. Enjoy!

There were some things that literally no one could say were good. And then there were things even worse than that. Being awoken in the middle of the night by a knock on the door in a place where no one came to call only to find out that it was literally a person's worst enemy and also the person they were meant to kill was one of those things.

Spock and James were both light sleepers for their own reasons. They woke up the second they heard the creak of the old door. Spock lay perfectly still, but James sat up straight, cursed under his breath, and dived off the bed. The adapted cloaking technology was on the side of the bed. James fumbled with it before getting it to operate just in time for Nero, Ayel, and an unfamiliar cloaked figure to enter the room.

James blinked at the cloaked figure as he snuck behind them. He swore he recognized her. He wondered if maybe he had seen her around Ki Baratan. He didn't think this situation at all unlikely when one considered that he had been wandering around and spying for the last week. But there was something else about her that James could not place for the life of him.

James stood warily behind these people he despised. It was still a little difficult to take them seriously when he had seen them fucking despite all the terrible shit they had all done. James was pretty sure he was a better lay than the Romulan Praetor. That was basically not a matter of opinion either.

The Praetor was the first one to speak. “Jaeih here tells me there were loud groans in your room. Sex noises. Ayel and I weren’t in here, so who the fuck were you doing it with?!” Nero took a menacing step forward. Ayel and Jaeih hung back. 

James watched for a second. He was not sure if Nero and Ayel were about to fuck or what the deal was. He didn't want to watch. But Nero’s step was in Spock's direction. A crack ran out across the room as Nero’s hand connected with Spock's cheek. The flesh was green where Nero’s fist had hit. Spock bit his lip hard enough that drop of green blood threatened to dribble down his chin. He did not cry out.

Before James could do anything about it, the hand had connected with Spock's other cheek. “Bend over,” Nero hissed harshly, wrinkling his nose in seeming disgust. Spock obeyed, sending the ceiling a pleading look. An S.O.S., so to speak. “What makes you think you have the right to have sex?! What makes you think you're worth —” 

Nero never finished that sentence. He was dead on the floor. It was only then that anyone realized that they had heard a phaser go off and seen the light coming from the side of the room. Ayel rushed at Spock with fury etched on his every feature. James realized that he was blaming Spock for Nero’s death.

James bit back a Romulan curse. Of course Nero blamed Spock. 

James hardly dared to watch as he raised his phaser and shot Ayel, too. Ayel fell to the floor at Spock's feet. Ayel’s corpse was sprawled half on top of Nero’s. It was almost romantic, and perhaps in some tragedy, two corpses united on death might have been.

This was real life, and there was still a living witness, Jaeih. Jaeih stood stalk-still still just where she had been standing. Unlike Ayel, she didn't move to protect her praetor. She wasn't the knight of some fairy tale. She wouldn't have said that she was good POW material either. She was a spy and did what she was told. She would deny that she was scared or shocked or anything of the sort. Weakness was never an option.

But still, she stood still as James took off his cloaking device. She stood still as James took off her hood. She stood still as James asked, “Jocelyn McCoy?” Jaeih stared at him. She blinked. She coughed and widened her brown eyes as if to ask if he were serious. James was. 

“Who are you?” Jaeih asked defensively. Spock looked between the pair of them in confusion. He had not caught Bones’s surname.

James tilted his head to the side and grinned broadly. Dangerous was the only way this look could be described on this man. “I'm a friend of Leonard’s. He talks about you, how you betrayed him, how you stole your daughter. So where is little Joanna, or do you call her by a Romulan name too?”

Jaeih furrowed her brow. There was a pregnant pause as she seemed to stare at James in confusion. “What happened to JoJo?”

It was James’s turn for confusion. “He told me you stole her. What the fuck did you do to her?”

Jaeih’s eyes widened in horror. She clapped a hand to her mouth and sank to her knees. James ran forward and caught her before the rest of her hit the ground. Vulcanoids were similar to humanoids in many ways. That was why cosmetic surgery could make them almost indistinguishable. But in addition to the ears and blood composition, there was another difference: tear ducts. Vulcanoids could never cry.

The sound of Jaeih sobbing tearlessly as she was was agonizing even if James had hated her on principle. Spock stood up and walked to James. In the pirate's ear, he whispered, “Guards will come any moment. We must go.”

James nodded slowly. More loudly than Spock, James added, “We'll take her with us. She can be a prisoner.” And so it was that Jaeih, not POW material, was taken captive.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

They had left the room and switched on the cloaking device long before anyone realized the Praetor was gone. It was longer before they found him and realized he was dead. Spock ended up rather low on the Imperial list if priorities, and for once, he was more than okay with being forgotten. James wasted no time and calling their ship. Bones had been the one to answer, and Spock was surprised that James did not warn his crew about their prisoner.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

“Tell me this is a joke,” Bones growled when they arrived on board the ship. He noticed the third member beamed up immediately because how could he not when he had been married to her for so long. He had barely even noticed that Spock and James seemed well enough. He cared about them, Jaeih realized instantly what his priorities were. Her. He had been almost her fairytale prince until she'd been ordered back.

Jaeih just looked at him. She needed him to stop looking like he hated her. Needed it. She tried to show him all her pain, and as a doctor, he noticed, but as a spurned man, he didn't care. “Please . . . Len . . . What happened to our daughter?”

Bones swallowed. “You took her, bitch. Don't you remember?” There was something hard in his face, and Jaeih had known him well enough to know he was lying. She knew she hadn't taken their beloved daughter because her work was too dangerous for a child to be involved. It was the single hardest thing she had done in her life.

Jaeih looked around. Her hands were tied, and there was almost nothing that she would be able to do to defend herself. It was a horrifying thought. She couldn't stand to be so fucking helpless. She cursed under her breath in the bastardized Romulan most of the spies spoke. Her gaze landed on James and Spock.

They had been the ones to capture her, but they had captured her, not tortured or killed or raped her. In truth, they were the closest thing to allies she now had. It was a scary thought. She gave them the most pleading look she could manage.

“Why’d you leave me, bitch? Why’d you send people to fucking off me? Why’d you steal our daughter?” Bones repeated these words, these curses, and he spat them out as if they made her the scum of the world. Jaeih was innocent of these. She knew that she was — her only crime to him had been leaving.

It was thus that she came to a realization: he was saying these for the benefit of his captain. These words were not for her. So she would give the captain words, too, words that Bones would not know.

“ _Dii craieri. Reh stheakhe. Ahr’hhvaeh reh, daie. Kuuraen rham dvaer — haenitherlai. Dii partraiiar veoth mnean rhifv reh haenitherar. Aei ahr’reh dhat._ ”

_He is lying. I did not. I am a spy, yes. My only crime is leaving. He had our daughter when I left. I ordered no Romulans after him. It wasn’t me._

“We had no reason to hurt you. You know I loved you —” Jaeih tried.

She was cut off by a loud shout of “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” from her ex-husband. She hadn’t even wanted to leave, and in truth, she still carried a torch for him like some fairytale girl. This wasn’t a fairytale, but she wished it were. If it were, she’d get her happy ending with the man she loved, but this wasn’t a fairytale, and shit like that wasn’t real life. There were too many things keeping them apart.

“But did the Federation know about me? They must’ve thought you . . . shit,” Jaeih began, looking at each and every one of them. “What did they know? How much? Did they think you helped me? Oh, fucking shit. That’s what happened, isn’t it.” Jaeih felt like she could almost vomit as something like dread seep into her stomach. “The Federation has her, don't they?!”

She thought she saw something like fear in Bones’s eyes, but then it was gone and replaced by that hardness in his eyes. It was unfamiliar to her, and it was the first thing he'd done to make her feel so alien. She swallowed. “Am I right?”

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

James watched the scene unfolding before him with something akin to alarm. He had trusted Bones since shortly after he had met the other man. How he was acting was very unlike the man he had come to know. And then Jaeih was panicking, and James knew that, and he was predisposed to dislike her and not trust her. He was not sure anyone could feign confusion so well, and he would know all about acting.

Someone was lying, and he was used to seeing liars and calling them out. He was used to lying. It was a talent of his. But now, now he could not tell truth from lie, fact from fiction. He could not tell, and it made him feel unsteady, like a man standing up in a canoe on a stormy sea. There was a beep coming from the console, which had been set on autopilot. James raced over to it and cursed viciously.

“What?” came a shout from behind him. He wasn’t paying enough attention to figure out who it was. 

James read the scanner. Everyone always said to keep one’s eyes on the road. James wished that he had listened. There was a large Federation ship coming up behind them.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” James cursed, quickly working on the telemetry to get them as far away from the ship behind them. He was just punching in their course when there was a crash. James was thrown to the floor. And then he hit his head.

And then there was blackness.

Silence.

Nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that happened. Again, I apologize for the delay, and I hope you enjoyed! All feedback is appreciated!
>
>> A Virto Musae  
> By the Virtue of the Muse


	8. Chapter 8

The first thing Spock was aware of when he awakened was pain. Everything hurt. His entire body hurt. He groaned. He stiffened immediately. He had once been Vulcan, but the emotion he showed now was the antithesis of that. He shouldn't show his emotion now, now when he could feel the cuffs on his wrists. He had not yet opened his eyes, so he did not know to what he was chained. 

He refused to open his eyes for as long as he could avoid it. He just wanted to avoid the reality of the situation as long as he could. Despite the burning pain as his arms were hoisted far enough above his head that he wondered when his arms were going to pop out of their sockets. His back, he realized that the entirety of his back burned like it had been whipped. He realized that it most likely had been. He could feel the blood sliding down, and he could imagine how sickeningly green it must be. He did not want to think about what James, the wanted criminal who had escaped from them before would have gone through.

This was not a fairytale where he could escape his fate if he just pretended it wasn’t true. It wasn’t a fairytale where he was a hero and his happiness guaranteed. This was no fairytale, but by all the gods, he wished it were. Were this a fairy tale, he’d escaped the evil step-mother and by all means, this should be his happy ending.

Instead there was pain. 

Spock forced himself to open his eyes.

It hurt to open his eyes. He couldn’t say that he was shocked. Everything hurt, so why shouldn’t this? A moment later, however, his eyes had adjusted to how the bright lights reflected off the white paint covering almost the entire room. Spock looked up to see the chains attached to his handcuffs attached to the ceiling. His toes barely brushed the ground. 

He glanced around the room. White walls. White ceiling. James hanging in the same position next to him. Spock could see the blood oozing from deep lacerations on James’s back and some blood slithering from a cut on his temple.

Spock had to look away to keep from vomiting. There was so much blood, blood everywhere. Was he that bad? Was his whole back green? Spock had to close his eyes to try vanquish his thoughts, and still they pressed at his mind. Spock wanted to press his hands to his head, and he could feel tears pricking at his eyes. The truth was a crippling one: _this could be the day they died._

Fairy stories were known for their darkness, and for ending in death or love. Spock felt that he was trapped in one, a fly caught in a web of alternate endings. Like the fly, none looked good for him. He slumped, and his shoulders ached in protest about how his legs no longer helped to support his mass. There was a loud pop and a flash of nearly blinding pain as his left shoulder popped out of his joint. He may have screamed, but he could not know.

“Spock?” came a voice from beside him, and through the fog in his mind, Spock was able to follow it into reality, where his entire body ached and tried to force him from all rational thought.

“James?”

“You’re alive then?” James sounded hesitant, and his voice was shaky. It was not something Spock could have ever envisioned on the man previously. This was not a fairy tale, but Spock had expected James to be his Prince Charming — infallible and perfect. Seeing him like this was more than a simple shock; it rocked Spock’s entire world. 

“Yes.” 

Spock could hear James suck in a breath. “It looked really bad, earlier. I - I wasn’t sure, and I mean, everyone dies. Everyone, so I thought you had —”

“I am alive.” Spock did not want to hear the end of that sentence, not when he knew how likely it was that it would come to pass in the next few days. Spock repressed a shudder. These were things of which he could not dare think. 

“Good.”

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

Days were the same. 

“You’re alive then?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.”

“You’re alive then?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.”

“You’re alive then?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.”

“You’re alive then?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.”

“You’re alive then?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.”

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

By the time the door finally opened, neither could know how long it had taken. James was hungry and desperate. He had not been this way since Tarsus, since the day he decided that he was going to get his revenge and fix the galaxy’s problems. He was going to fix this, too, but he had no means to do it. The door opened on a familiar face that was now more haunted than James remembered. Bones. James’s face contorted into a snarl. “What the fuck?!”

“I had to do it,” Bones admitted, looking ashen. “They’ve had my JoJo all this time. They’d’ve killed her, Jim. Killed her.” James did not soften his gaze. They could have worked together, but Bones had not trusted him. “Joss’s in worse condition than you are. We’re going to get you and your hobgoblin the hell out of here.”

James ignored him.

The door closed.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

The next time the door opened, they took Spock. James panicked silently, his breaths coming so short gasps. He was losing the one person that was with him. He felt lost, like there was nothing for him to cling to. He’d lost his security blanket. They said not to depend so much on others. Now he was realizing how lost he was without this man he had known only days.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

Spock did not watch where he was being taken. His eyes were glazed with pain. The people taking him were not considerate about his wounds and jostled him. He could feel wounds splitting and the blood start oozing again. It hurt, and he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out in a very un-Vulcan way.

He was pushed into a white room and collapsed on the floor. Standing, arms crossed, in the corner was Jaeih with her hood no longer up. Spock furrowed his brow in confusion. Why was she fine? She seemed to notice the direction he was staring and nodded her head to the left to indicate that he should look forward. Hesitantly, he obeyed.

He peeled his eyes from her and looked forward. The man standing there was one that Spock did not recognize, but the look on his face was disconcertingly friendly. “You’re Spock, yes? Nice work in the Romulan Empire. You took down Nero and his cronies. I’m impressed. We could use people like you and your captain. You know his dad died to defeat Nero?”

Spock’s head snapped up. “George Kirk?”

“Yes.” The man nodded. “Yes. We could use the pair of you. Geniuses, leap without looking. The Federation needs to change. I can fix it. If the pair of you join me, sign up as free agents with the Federation, you will be safe.”

Spock stared.

“You know what the Federation is? It’s important. My name is Chris. Christopher Pike. If you don’t help, I can’t guarantee your release, simple as that. I’ll leave you here with Mrs. McCoy.”

Spock blinked. Pike? Like Hana Pike, James’s pirate friend?

Pike laughed. “Hana’s my Number One. Love her to pieces.” He smiled down at Spock and left the room.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

James cursed. He’d tried counting, and he’d reckoned it’d been about two days since they’d taken Spock. He couldn’t be sure. It may have just been minutes.He felt like screaming. What was he supposed to do here on his own? His wrists were tied. His weapons were gone. His armor was gone. He had nothing, and there were no means with which he could escape. He was well and truly trapped, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. He didn’t know how to deal with being a caged bird. So much of his strength was being able to evade capture and evade being trapped. Evading a ship was easy, but escaping with nothing? This was no fairy story, but even the fairy stories didn’t lie and say he could escape on his own. He knew it was his own ending. He shut his eyes.

“Jim?” 

That was the voice of a betrayer, but even that voice was a welcome one. It cut through the tedium, and James could not keep the flutter of hope away.

“Bones?” James’s voice was more whimper than anything else.

There was a hand on his wrists, and suddenly he fell forward into open arms. James hissed in pain as Bones eased him to the floor. James couldn’t see it, but there was something being run along his back, and there was a tingling sensation. It clicked. _Dermal regenerator._ “We’re getting you out of here. Look, agree to spy for Hana’s husband, and you’re safe from the Feds.”

James frowned and shook his head. “No.”

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

Bones hid James in a supply closet. Pike had said that Spock would be the one to crack and work for them. Spock would agree willingly because he was used to caving to authority. Pike had promised to help him free JoJo if he helped him remodel the Federation.Trouble was, he wanted James and Spock working with him. Bones was the one who knew that could never work. Bones was the one who understood they both hated authority too much to ever work with it of their own free will, and both were iron-willed so much that torture was unlikely to force them to cave.

He’d done everything he could to heal James. He wasn’t going to be able to fix everything properly. The bones were going to have to heal the old-fashioned way. But the injuries had stopped coming, which allowed the old ones to heal, and Bones made sure to check on James at least once a day and bring him food. It was a quiet existence.

To his frustration, the room containing his ex-wife (the one containing Spock, but his ex was his priority) and the room containing his kid were his priorities. He couldn’t deal with the separation or the stress. There had already been so many different days where he wanted to break down from the guilt, but he had forced himself to go on. He had to save JoJo. 

And now he wasn’t able to do that. It was eating him from the inside out. It was a snake in his gut, poison seeping into his blood and forcing his every limb to burn with agony.

He could not hack those rooms, but it occurred to him that he had someone who could: 

James Tiberius Kirk.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

When Bones walked back into his supply closet, James looked up. The words that came next changed everything:

“We’re rescuing Jaeih and Joanna tonight.”

James, nodding, forced himself to his feet. “And we’re rescuing Spock.”

“And Spock,” Bones agreed. 

James turned his blue eyes to Bones. “I don’t think I can forgive you for betraying me yet, but get us all out alive, and maybe that’ll be a start.” And thus James learned what Spock had learned before, that trust could be repaired even when the person who had broken faith was trusted. The hint of a smile ghosted Bones’s lips.

“Okay.” Bones held out a hand to James. “So can you hack their computers and unlock the doors?”

“Obviously.”

And he took Bones’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter literally hated me, and so did my laptop. So yeah, sorry it took so fucking long, okay? Feedback is always cherished. Taluhk nash-veh pla-fun.
>
>> ~~A Virto Musae  
> By the Virtue of the Muse


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay!

There were some things that took a lot of bravery, a lack of looking, and a lack of fear. This was not one of those things. James Tiberius Kirk, pirate, felt no fear as he hacked the Federation prison’s computers. This was the sort of thing that to him was second nature. This was what he did. This was him, who he was. He had escaped once on his own and once with assistance. He was not going to die today. He refused. He would not die when he was so recently freed, and he was not going to die while his allies and friends and acquaintances were not free. That was not who and how he was, so it would not happen.

Despite the pain circulating through his blood with every single heartbeat, James’s fingers flew over the keys. He paused for a second and took a breath as he sought the piece of code he needed to finish the command. It took a second, but then he had it, and all he had to do was press the enter button.

James looked at Bones and motioned for the man to take a step closer. “Go to them.” 

Bones stared at James with dark eyes filled with confusion. 

James’s lips were set in a thin line.

“Go get them.”

It was then that Bones became able to use his own words, and his brow was knitted in confusion. “What?” He gave his best friend a lost look. Brown eyes were wide in confusion and in concern. “What?”

“Go get them. Someone needs to be there to help them out. I need to be here.” James nodded slowly as if to emphasize his point. What he said was not his only reason, and both men knew it. James was not healed enough to let them walk easily, and Spock at least would also be injured. Escaping with two gravely injured people would be nigh impossible. Someone once said, “No fine work can be done without concentration and self-sacrifice and toil and doubt.’

This, here, was proving to be the truth, and neither friend liked it.

“You’re a good man, James Kirk,” Bones said gruffly, clapping James on the shoulder.

James looked at Bones with a half-smirk. “I know.”

Bones left.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

The door opened, and Spock found himself expecting it to be Pike. No one else had visited in the last however-long-he-had-been-trapped-here. He was not being tortured now and had been mostly healed of his wounds, so Spock preferred this to where he had been previously. But he had no clue how James was or if he were even alive. Spock found this to be a troubling fact. He was unused to caring and worrying about others more than himself. 

It was not Pike.

It was the traitor, Bones. Leonard McCoy.

“Come with me. I’m getting you out, Joss, and JoJo, too. Spock, you able to walk?” Bones’s voice was gruff, brisk, and there was a mixture of anger and determination in his eyes. But more than that, there was a look of guilt and honest sadness, and in that moment, looking at those eyes, Spock decided to forgive him. There was one condition.

“Where is James?”

Bones looked down, and Spock wondered if those were tears in the other man’s eyes.

“He opened the door, and he wants us to go, so the best thing to do for him is go.”

Spock opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. Were this a fairy story, they might have gone back and rescued James. This was no fairy story, and as Spock stood mute and lost, Bones grabbed his arm and pulled him into the hallway with Jaeih and JoJo in tow.

Spock wrested his hand free from Bones’s grasp. “I am not leaving, not until you tell me why he is not here.” The defiance in his stare could easily have belonged to James. Spock felt no tears in his eyes, but there was a gnawing sensation in his stomach and a desperation. James had rescued him. Why was it so unlikely they could do the same?

“He is gone because he is injured and because he wanted you safe, so fucking move, goddamnit!”

Bones’s words were a knife twisting in his gut.

Spock wanted to fall to his knees there and then in a pit of despair. He would be the reason James died. It was a vile thought.

Spock remained still, wooden, too many emotions careening through his soul to express any single one.

This time when Bones grabbed his arm to pull him along, Spock let him pull. He did not fight once.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

James collapsed against the console. His job was done. He breathed out a ragged breath that was meant to be a sigh of relief. As his forehead hit the top of the console with a thud, all James could focus on was how cool the metal was against his skin. He tried to catch the edge, but he was too off-balance to be able to catch himself.

He fell to his knees. The cold surface of the floor was unforgiving, and his knees and thighs rang from the impact. He had barely avoided banging his chin on the console. He was glad for whatever mercy he was able to receive, no matter how small it actually was. He realized that this was the second time he was escaping from the Federation. He had been tortured. He had a new crime now. 

James never called himself naive because he had learned the ways of the galaxy. He knew this was going to be his end. 

He sucked in a shaky breath and clung to the console like a vise. He pushed himself to his feet though his legs shook. He would do this because he had to do this. He would stand because he would not die on his knees.

He was going to die.

It was inevitable, a fact.

James Kirk was going to die today.

He could hear the footsteps clanging on the metal floor.

James closed his eyes and braced himself. 

The footsteps came closer, and James opened his eyes.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

Spock was still as he watched the Federation base grew smaller and smaller out the back window of their small ship. His finger skimmed over the glass. It was a foolishly sentimental gesture. Foolishly romantic and foolishly lost. Yet Spock was quite incapable of stopping. 

He shut his eyes.

James, who had nearly betrayed him once, who had saved him so much, who had killed for him, his James — that man had died for Spock. Died to keep Spock safe.

Spock could not fathom the dejection he felt.

_How could James do this? How could James leave him? James was supposed to help him and be there with him not matter what. How had this happened?_

Spock did not realize he curled his other hand into a fist.

A hand found its way to his shoulder. Spock barely kept himself from scowling when he turned to look up. “What?” he asked dully, his tone fully void of any emotion.

“We don’t know that Jim’s dead, Spock,” Bones said. Spock took a second before he was able to process what Bones said. When he did, he could not resist the urge to snort. He was almost positive Bones was trying to console himself, not Spock. “He’s alive, and he will find us. I have not doubt.”

“Your voice is trembling,” Spock whispered. “You do not believe that.”

Bones stiffened, and his hand slipped from Spock’s shoulder. He took a slow step back. “What else can I do? Believe that my best friend is gone? He was there for me when I thought I had lost everything, and he was there for me when I got it all back. He didn’t want me to lose it all again. That man can’t be dead. He can’t be.” Bones’s voice cracked, and he fell to the floor a few feet from where Spock sat. His eyes were red, but he pretended that there was no tear trailing down his face. He couldn’t bear even that.

Spock was not able to say anything to that. He did not wish James dead either, but he did not see it likely that James had escaped. “Leave me.”

“No.”

Spock turned and gave Bones an irritable glare as if he could hardly believe Bones was saying that.

Bones elaborated, “I don’t trust you not to do anything monumentally stupid, and for the love of God, I don’t want to lose anyone else!”

Spock said nothing.

Bones said nothing. 

They sat in silence.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

For the longest time, nothing happened. That was the worst part — the waiting. The waiting was fucking intolerable. Those drawn out seconds while he waited for the Federation men to kill him. That was almost a worse torture than all that had already been done unto him. James took a shuddering breath.

The footsteps arrived. A gun was at his head.

“Walk.”

A command.

James walked.

He was pushed into a new cell.

Waiting here, too, was a torture. There was nothing to break up the monotonous passing of time. No food. No toilet breaks. No visitors. James hated it. Despised it. Abhorred it. The not knowing what was planned for him rankled. He used to be good at guessing motives, good at knowing what was happening and how to escape. Yet for once in his life, he was well and truly stuck.

When the door finally passed, it could have been years later, and James would have been none the wiser. It was only two days.

The man who appeared was not one James recognized. He had grey hair. Had he not been a member of the Federation, James might have said his face looked almost kind. “Who’re you?” James croaked. His voice was harsh from disuse.

“I think you know my wife, Hana.”

James’s head snapped up. “So you’re Minister Pike. What do you want with me?” James forced a smirk. “I can guarantee I’m not giving you want you want, you know.”

“I’ve come to make you a bargain.” This was said with a withering sigh. James wondered for a second if he were the latest in a long line of people Pike had proposed this to. “I can grant you amnesty if you agree to work for me.”

James laughed. “Let me think. Uh, no.”

Another sigh. “I want to change the Federation as much as you do. Work with me. Help me defeat my enemies and come into power. I want to end the war with Romulus and restructure the bureaucracy.”

“No.” James shook his head. “I’m not going to do that. I’m not a politician, and I am no man’s agent. I am my own person. You want to remodel your bureaucracy? Start with yourself.” Pike looked generally startled with this and perhaps . . . abashed? James continued, “I’m not going to work for you. I work for myself. I can weaken the Federation, but it’s on my terms. I could lie to you, say I’m going to help you and then do my own thing. I’m being honest. I don’t want protection or help, only freedom.”

Pike stuck out his hand. “You’re not going to change.”

“No.” James noticed the hand. “What are you doing.”

“I’ll give you your freedom. Let me help you to a ship.”

Someone once said, the most practical kind of politics is the politics of decency. For the first time in his life, as Pike helped him to a ship, James learned the true meaning of that. Pike could have imprisoned him again, waited until he caved. But he didn’t. Instead, Pike helped him to a ship. Everything about James hurt. Every bit. But he didn’t complain as Pike took a step back and watched the ship disappear.

For the first time since the Federation ship came up behind them, James smiled.

He was free, and he was alive, and his friends were out there somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter -- the epilogue. I hope you all have enjoyed. As always, I would love feedback! =)
>
>> A Virto Musae  
> By the Virtue of the Muse


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New beginnings

The port was loud, as most spaceports were wont to be. This one was especially so. Located in what was considered the neutral zone between Romulus and the Federation, it was flourishing with the newfound peace. James smiled half-heartedly as he looked at all the stores and crowds.

It felt like home, and it felt like peace.

James Kirk, who was a notorious pirate in his own right, had not been much of a pirate for the last year since he had escaped. Instead, he had been little more than a transient, lingering for days at any given port and then wandering off again. He hadn’t left the Federation despite the inherent dangers of remaining. While Pike had freed him, that did not necessarily mean that everyone in the government was on board with it.

James feet carried him down the street. He doubted he would be any more lucky here than he had been elsewhere. They said that people who stayed in one place were more likely to be found. James needed to move, couldn’t bear staying in a single place. James was meant to be free, so he continued travelling. He didn’t enjoy it, not the way he had when he was thirteen and young and scrappy and hungry.

He stopped in the doorway of a large building. It wasn’t a hotel because it was not nearly reputable enough for that. It was not a brothel either, despite how it sometimes looked from the common room. Still, James Kirk entered and sat down at a back table.

He didn’t figure himself a recognizable man. He had deep blue eyes and tan hair. That was as the legends said, but few people ever saw him. That was the beauty of his job, how he had gone so long uncaught. So when a girl approached him and asked him if he were James Kirk, it was not strange that he grabbed his phaser.

“Who’s asking?” James Kirk asked. He had yet to point his phaser so much as just hold it in his hand as a precaution. Many were not whom they said they were, and those who appeared innocent oft were the monsters themselves. James remembered the looks people once had given him when he was a child. Now he looked how he felt: a man who had weathered many trials. People feared him less now though now he had helped overthrow both the Romulan and Federation regimes. It was because of him that a place like the one where he was now in could exist.

“My name’s Joanna.”

For all that James had looked at photographs of his friend’s daughter, he had not recognized her on sight. It was the name that sprang his memory. James’s eyes widened, and Joanna grinned at him.

“Come with me.”

It could have been a bad idea, falling into a trap, but James followed her. At this point, he didn’t care, and Joanna. Joanna was the name of McCoy’s girl, the one he had rescued. If he passed up this one chance, he was not confident in his ability to forgive himself.

“I will,” James agreed hoarsely. 

So he went.

⚚ ⚙ ⚚ ⚙ ⚚

There were many things people said about life: That life was hard, that it was like a box of chocolates, but nobody ever said that it was a fairy story. Life was never a fairy story, yet that did not mean life was always bad. Good things happened sometimes, too.

That day was one of those days. When James Kirk followed Joanna, a miracle happened. A reunion.

None of them looked the same as they had before. McCoy had more grey in his hair. Jaeih had dyed her hair silver, possibly to match. Spock and James had changed more than either of them. 

When they saw each other, it was as though time had stopped. They stared at each other. Spock has grown out his hair so that there were waves around the nape of his neck, but he had ditched his loose clothes for more form-fitting ones. Spock, James thought, looked better than he ever had before.

James, Spock thought, looked worse than he had ever seen him. He had a couple more scars and the bags under his eyes were large enough to hold the Federation and Romulan Empire both. But James still wore those same clothes and cocksure grin. He was unmistakably the same man.

“You’re alive then?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Neither man could tear his eyes from the other. Tears were in their eyes, though neither man would have known it.

James let out a shaky laugh. “You're alive.”

Hand trembling, Spock held up his hand in the ta’al. He seemed to stare into the depths of James’s very soul. James raised his hand and copied Spock’s gesture. Then he pressed his hand to Spock’s. 

Both men inhaled sharply.

Brown eyes met blue.

“Hello,” James whispered, his voice cracking.

A hint of a smile curled Spock's lips. “Hello.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. The epilogue. Thank you all for sticking with me, and I hope you enjoyed! All feedback is loved! Chamber of Dust is officially off hiatus as this comes to a close.
>
>> A Virto Musae  
> By the Virtue of the Muse

**Author's Note:**

> Romulan translations were done using resources provided by the Romulan Language Institute. Vulcan translations were done using the resources of the Vulcan Language Institute and Vulcan Language Dictionary. If anyone has a better translation, feel free to say something. O'ren has been presented in multiple locations as Nero's name in Romulan. Vaebn is a Romulan name meaning "sneaky one."
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Please leave feedback. Thank you.
>
>> A Virto Musae  
> By the Virtue of the Muse


End file.
